I slowly watched her close her eyes as I held her hand. I was five at the time, and I believe my father was elsewhere, most likely drinking or smoking or something. He couldn't bare to witness what was going to happen. I was barely holding up, myself. Then I glanced over at her eyes. The look in her eyes made me start crying. My whole family knew what was going to happen: my daddy, my uncle, and me. She was going to die.
The disease had spread quickly after she had me. I was the reason mommy was laying in the hospital bed. If I wasn't born, this wouldn't have happened. Mommy and daddy would be happy together like they were before I was born. They shared in their happiness with giggles and kisses. I ruined everything they ever had. Daddy tells me so every day.
He also repeatedly tells me that….
I killed my mother.
The room was silent although I could hear the heart monitor slowly beep as I closed my eyes. My mother was lying there, in pain. I couldn't watch anymore, so I had to close my eyes. I started tearing when I heard her groaning in pain. The sounds made me so emotional.
Just then, the doctor told me I had to leave. So I left the room and searched for daddy. The tears still slowly fell down my cheek as I ran through the hospital.
There he was. Daddy was drinking whiskey again and Uncle Stephen was looking out the window. I ran over to Uncle Stephen and hugged his leg. He lifted me up and squeezed me, as he wiped my tears away with his sleeve. Whenever I needed comfort, Uncle Stephen was always there for me.
The next morning, I woke to the sound of daddy screaming and yelling. Being scared by the noise, I slowly tiptoed downstairs into the kitchen where daddy was: surrounded by millions and millions of whiskey bottles. Uncle Stephen was nowhere to be found, I got scared.
Then daddy saw me. He icily stared at me with those big blue sad eyes of his.
"Camille, sweetie," he wailed out.
I cringed.
Daddy came at me with a whiskey bottle in his hand. His expression scared me half to death, possibly more, even.
"Camille, Why you SON OF A B…..Why did you KILL HER? YOU KILLED YOUR MOTHER: YOU STUPID, NO GOOD, LITTLE BRAT!"
Tears begun racing down my cheek as I started running away from him. He caught up to me fast though, like almost instantly.
Then, darkness.
I woke the next afternoon with a huge scar on my head. I went over to my vanity mirror and looked at my reflection. Yep, there was a huge scar on my face. Daddy must have hit me again. He always hits me when he's angry, like I'm some kind of a toy to him.
He doesn't love me, he never has. He dreaded the day I was born. He told me himself, I was a worthless little nothing to him. Daddy loathed me even more when I caused mommy to die.
I miss mommy. Her sweet hugs and warming smile always lighted up my darkness days. But she was gone, and I was alone.